Recollections of the Doomed
by Jander Panell
Summary: A collection of brief AkuZeku stories. Story V, "Dead Star": "Damn it, Zexion," sighed Axel as he approached, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Why can't you sleep with someone who'll protect you?"
1. Chains

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Recollections of the Doomed

_I. Chains_

Summary: A collection of brief AkuZeku stories. Story I, "Chains": "When Zexion thinks about what symbolizes his and Axel's relationship best, his mind arrives at only one thing--chains."

Warnings: Same warnings as apply to all my AkuZeku stories. You know, yaoi, abuse, yadda yadda.

Notes: Wow, I'm quite a hypocrite, claiming that I won't update anymore since school has started, but...somehow I've been able to steal enough time to at least do _this. _I intend this to be a collection of brief AkuZeku oneshots (drabbles, they're called?) that I will update periodically whenever writing demons bite me. In the butt. You know.

I broke another slightly less major promise by writing in present tense, something I told myself to do since _everyone _seems to be doing it...and for personal reasons I just don't like it. However, I think I intend for each story to be written in a somewhat different style. Like, this one in present tense, the next one perhaps in first person, so on and so forth. Just a way to experiment and have fun. :) And I'll also switch between Axel and Zexy's POV, and maybe throw in a few outsider (Vexen, Demyx, Roxas, etc.) POV's in there. We shall see!

And hey. This'll challenge me (kinda) as a writer, as I'm going to try to keep each story nice and brief! Which is something that I've had trouble with in the past (as _anyone _who's read "A Relationship of Equals" can testify). This first story alone, without the notes, is just over a thousand words. Astounding!

* * *

When Zexion thinks about what symbolizes his and Axel's relationship best, his mind arrives at only one thing:

Chains.

Chains have been a part of their relationship, from the very beginning. Zexion can still remember that first night, so many years ago, when his fiery-headed junior invited him to share the same bed...but that time hadn't been their first. They'd already been seeing each other for several weeks already, Zexion having been somewhat--_somewhat_--intrigued by the Organization's newest member. But those encounters had been casual, had been nothing but an excuse for a night of good, hard, sex. Zexion had thought their relationship would stay that way, being nothing but a few occasional flings, requiring no commitment from either one of them, nothing but a shared libido--

Until the chains.

He remembers, still, remembers lying face down on the bed as per Axel's instructions, remembers feeling his arms jerked above his head, and, looking up in surprise, seeing--the _chains. _Even now, Zexion has no idea where Axel got the chains from, and he doesn't feel up to asking. Why does it matter, anyway...? All that matters to him is that _that _night was the first of many, _many _nights, where Axel had chained him with an almost expert precision to the bed post, and then climbed on top of him, and mastered him, for the first time of hundreds.

From that point on, the chains have become a fixture of their relationship. Strictly speaking, Axel doesn't _need _them to do Zexion--sometimes, if he's feeling impatient, he'll just tie Zexion down with his own belt, or bind his arms to the bed post using the bed's sheets. On some rare occasions, he doesn't even feel the need to tie Zexion down at all. These moments are too few and far between to amount to much, however.

And Zexion cannot deny that the _best _nights he's ever had, the most intense and shuddering climaxes--have always been when Axel uses the _chains. _For some reason, there is something that cannot be replicated about being tightly bound--both arms--by a length of cool, clattering metal chain. Certainly, it leaves plenty of bruises afterwards, but as they say, nothing in life is free. What you do get is entirely worth the cost.

Zexion suspects that the attraction of the chains to both him and Axel is something more than just a late-night kink--it's something that defines his and Axel's entire relationship. A chain binds the two of them together, irrevocably--a chain that cannot be seen, but cannot be broken, either. This chain was first bound around them that night, eons ago, when Axel first tied Zexion up; it has since only tightened.

There are some--Luxord, mostly--who talk about fate, but Zexion doesn't believe that _fate _has chained him and Axel together. How could _they _be destined to be together? Axel is an impulsive extrovert, hiding his true insidious malice behind a snarky and casual veneer; Zexion, on the other hand, is an intelligent youth who hides his own insecurities and fears of weakness behind a coldly confident mask. They are nothing alike.

But their connection isn't entirely accidental, either. If it _was _just chance that brought Axel and Zexion together, then that tenuous string should have snapped long ago. No--what they're held together by isn't the stiff, powerful bind of fate, nor is it the thin, loosely-tied string of chance. It is something else altogether--something Zexion won't even pretend to understand, anymore.

There was a time when Zexion would have disliked that--would have disliked not understanding. For a scientist, _not knowing _was the absolute worst thing that could happen. As a scientist, he needed answers, strict and carefully defined answers that left no room for ambiguity. He's never been so locked into that dichotomy as, say, Vexen--Ienzo, and Zexion, have always been able to appreciate the finer points of things. Still, he liked getting definite answers.

With Axel, there are no answers, no certainties. And Zexion doesn't mind. He may not understand _why _he and Axel have become so inextricably bound together that they can no longer imagine a life without each other...but does it matter? _Theirs _is a relationship that defies any and all attempts at explanation--but how _can _it be explained? Not when they are two beings who _know _they should _not _be in a relationship in the first place. They know, of course, but it no longer matters to either of them, not when their life has become ruled not by their own decisions, but by that ever-present chain, that winds tighter and tighter with each and every day, drawing them closer together and closer to an ultimate fate that Zexion feels he may not entirely like.

He doesn't care anymore, however. He lost control of his life the day Axel first chained him to the bed post--and he doesn't want any of it back.

Every eventuality adds a link to their chain. Every kiss, every touch, every argument, every blow, every whispered plea. Even things that should have torn them apart--things such as Axel destroying the library Zexion had been close to calling home, things like Zexion knowingly flirting with Demyx all for the sake of getting Axel angry--have only served to draw them closer together. All the lies, all the deceits, all the insults and curses, have taken their place on the chain. Every action lengthens the chain, and every reaction serves to tighten it.

One day, Zexion feels that the chain will no longer be able to lengthen, that it will be unable to grow any tighter than it already has. One day, it will wrap so tightly around him and Axel that they can no longer draw breath--that will be the day it all ends. Sometimes, Zexion can almost _feel _that moment, just looming over the horizon. He waits, but it never comes, and for that, so far, he is grateful. He is not yet ready to be strangled by the relationship he and Axel share--the relationship that never should have been. Not yet.

As it is now, as he enters Axel's room, as he touches Axel's face, and kisses him with an exaggerated gentleness, as Axel pulls him away and smirks at him and tells him to stop teasing, Zexion is content to simply lie back and wait for it to happen. Until the chain winches so tightly that it squeezes the life out of him--

He is content to let the bonds tighten.

* * *

So...yeah. I don't know how well that worked out...in particular, I'm a bit unsure on how well I was able to incorporate the overarching theme (chains) into the story. Well, I appreciate feedback!

Again, if you _read _this, please _review. _I can't stand it when people read a story but won't comment on it (funny, since I do it myself--something I gotta change!). So take a second or two out of your time to tell me what you liked, or what you think I could do better! That'll be all for now...until the school year settles in full force and I'll sink under the weight of homework plus Academic Decathlon. We'll see.


	2. Adulthood

**Recollections of the Doomed**

_II. Adulthood_

See chapter one for summary, warnings, rating, etc.

A second story, slightly less AkuZeku than the first and focusing a little more on Zexion (in particular, his opinion of Axel). Again written in present tense...sigh...and also, the basic idea for this comes from _Loveless _(the manga). I just applied it to AkuZeku and ran with it.

And _please _don't start the whole "Do Nobodies age?" argument with me. For the sake of this story, Nobodies can't. Okay? I have no energy to argue with you. I have homework to do.

* * *

Zexion knows his situation is unusual. How could it not be--? He is a Nobody, a being that does not technically exist, a being that is but a shell of a former, whole, human existence. There are only twelve others like him, sad drifting beings who cling on to their memories of their former lives, because there is nothing else they have. The only other ones--_things_--like them are but mindless monsters, under their command. Otherwise...he, and the other twelve, are entirely alone.

_If you ask me what kind of man I want to be when I grow up..._

But Zexion knows his situation is different from the others. The others plunged themselves into darkness and lost their previous existences in the full bloom of their adulthood. Some had families--not a day goes by when Demyx _doesn't _remind the others of his wife and daughter, and Luxord occasionally brings up his multiple marriages. They all had jobs and positions in society. Perhaps not all of them were upstanding citizens, but the others were all adults. They had all already known what kind of people they were, and many had already realized their youthful ambitions.

Not Zexion.

_Then I will tell you._

It was because Ienzo had been seventeen when he gave himself to the darkness. Zexion, being the Nobody of Ienzo, inherited not only his Other's general appearance and memories, but also his age--and as he is a Nobody, a drifting shell, he cannot age. And of course, as a Nobody, he is technically _ageless. _Age shouldn't matter to beings who don't exist, and in most cases, it doesn't. But to Zexion, it _does._

Because Ienzo became a Nobody at seventeen, he didn't have a chance to grow up. To realize his ambitions, to become a man. Of course, he already knew what he was going to be--a scientist. But Ienzo did not know, and Zexion does not know, what kind of _man _he might have become. Now he will never know, because he is, forever, physically a teenager.

_I want to be a strong man, a tall man, a man who can fight for himelf, and for others._

It usually doesn't bother him. The other members do talk down to him a little bit, do call him "little boy" and "kid", and speak patronizingly to him even if they're technically his juniors according to the Organization's hierarchy. Luxord happens to be the most egregrious offender, followed by Larxene. Zexion doesn't mind, because he knows he's senior to them. And he's grown. Maybe not physically, but mentally he has. He's done things that Ienzo has never done, because of his youth--he's gotten drunk on more than one occasion, has tried to smoke once (but didn't like it), and...he's even slept with someone.

_I want to be a man who can smile caustically at everything, the kind of man who can brush off all his troubles with a casual shrug and a laugh._

But sometimes it _does _bother Zexion. Sometimes he _does _start to wonder about the kind of man he might have become, if he'd been given a chance to grow up. Would he be any different from the person he is now, or would he be stronger, wiser, more kind? Such questions are too difficult to answer, and in many cases impossible. It's funny, in a way--because before Axel, he _never _thought about what kind of adult Ienzo could have been.

Somehow...Axel made him wonder. It's odd because Zexion knows nothing about Axel's previous life, but being with Axel makes him _wonder _about himself. What _would _happen if he could age, if he could grow into a man? Would Axel still desire him, or would he have never gotten tangled with Axel in the first place? Was it his youthful naivete that drew him to Axel, a lack of past experiences to fall back on?

_I want to be a gentle man, a man who would hold the hands of someone like me, and guide him through life._

Once, Zexion voiced his thoughts to Axel, one of those times late at night when they were too tired to fuck but too alert to sleep. Sometimes they converse; most of the time they lie silent, content to touch hands and bask in the other's warmth. One night, long ago, Zexion wondered aloud what sort of man he would be. He asked Axel, "If I _could _grow up--if I _could _have become a man--what do you think I'd have been like?"

Axel turned to him, his green eyes glinting in the dark, and said, "I don't think you'd be different at all, Zexion."

_I want to be a smart man whose intelligence goes beyond just books, who understands people and what drives them._

Zexion disagrees with Axel on many counts, and he certainly disagrees with Axel on _that _count. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but he believes that if Ienzo had gotten a chance to grow up, he would have turned out _very _different from Zexion. Perhaps it's because Zexion doesn't like what he is, and fantasizes about what could have been different. In his fantasies, he would have become much wiser, much stronger, someone who could smile more easily but at the same time was impossible to divine.

He tells himself that the man he wishes he could become is just a fantasy, that no one could possibly be like that. All humans have flaws, and Zexion knows this painfully well. No one can be perfect. But, he tells himself, the man he _wants _to be isn't exactly a shining example of perfection.

_I want to be the kind of man who fears nothing._

In the end, Zexion decides it doesn't matter. Wishing, hoping, dreaming--these are the domain of those with hearts. He is incapable of dreaming for long, and eventually shrugs his dreams all off. In the end, he decides, his age--or lack of it--means nothing. And already, he's matured, far more than Ienzo ever did. He's become a wiser and harsher and sadder and more empathetic person than Ienzo could ever have hoped to become. Maybe he _has _already grown into a man. Not physically, but in every other way.

The man he is now isn't exactly the man he wanted to be, but that doesn't matter. As long as he has Axel, he doesn't need to fantasize.

* * *

Ha ha ha. I don't have much to say on this story, except it almost makes Axel and Zexion's relationship seem kind of..._healthy. _Which is just plain weird, but...enjoy it anyway.

Again, if you read this...please drop a comment or two, okay? I want to know what my precious readers are thinking!

If you have any requests, you can PM me, but that's no guarantee I'll write them. Because I'm kind of busy right now...but if I can steal enough time to write I will.


	3. Scheherazade

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Recollections of the Doomed

_III. Scheherazade_

See chapter one for summaries, ratings, etcetera et al.

A story that's rather...long-ish. But it's an easy read because it's all dialogue, so don't be put off by the length. But hey, be glad I updated! I'm surprised I wrote this too because for now I've been focusing more on my serious fiction writing. But this just kind of...came out, so whatever. Enjoy!

* * *

_Let me tell you a story._

What kind of story?

_A story of the past. Of things long gone, things almost forgotten. Things that will never be again._

Ooh, sounds deep. _Now _I'm interested.

_Shut up. Don't be so facetious. Anyhow--shall we continue?_

Go right ahead. No one's stopping you. Come on. I want to know what this story is about.

_All right, then. Once upon a time--_

Once upon a time? _Really? _Can't you think of a more original beginning?

_Be quiet! If you think you can do a better job, then go right ahead! No one's _making _me to do this!_

Okay, okay. No need to throw me a hissy fit. Continue.

_I should warn you, this is not a story with a happy ending._

I'm okay if it isn't. I'm not in a mood for happy things, anyway.

_Very well. Once, long ago, before you and I were even thought of...there was a castle._

A castle?

_Yes, a castle. In a land far away. A beautiful land, filled with lush and bountiful fields, blue skies, weather mild and temperate. A land where the people were always happy, and there was no fear, no strife, no war, no hatred. In this land, the people didn't have to worry about bare survival. They could devote their time and leisure to other pursuits, to cultivating their minds, to following their dreams and desires._

And how does the castle relate to this?

_I'm getting to that. Anyhow, every land, even one as carefree as this one, needs a leader. The leader of the beautiful land lived in the castle. He was a wise man, who devoted his time to study and creating a better world for his people. He cared for nothing more than his people, and nothing brought him greater joy than seeing their smiles._

Sounds like a nice leader.

_He was. He did not have to run his land alone, though. You see, this man had several apprentices who helped him perform his experiments--he was a scientist as well as a leader--and also helped him administrate his country. There were five of them, all young men, and they were very close._

How close?

_As close as brothers. Perhaps closer._

Ah, I see. So it was all like a nice little family in that castle?

_Yes. Basically. The five apprentices, despite being so close to each other, had wildly diverging personalities. One was crude and enjoyed shooting; another was volatile and independent; another was cold and methodical; and still another was silent and strong. And the last one, the youngest..._

He was the youngest?

_Yes. I don't know if you could even call him a man. He was more a boy, but he didn't think so. He had a sharp mind, and was always so curious about the world around him. He loved to read and devoured anything written voraciously. And above all...he wanted knowledge. He wanted to know _everything--_the laws of the world, the ways of the universe. Everything. He sought knowledge as a drowning man seeks air. No knowledge was out of reach for him._

He sounds like an ambitious kid.

_He was._ _And it frustrated him, sometimes, how his companions did not seek knowledge the way he did. They were slower and more careful about their research. In some cases, they didn't even _care _about their research. He did, though. And it bothered him to no end...he wanted a companion who was as ambitious as he was, who wouldn't hesitate to seek the world's boundaries, the most forbidden of forbidden knowledge. And one day...his wish was granted._

He got that companion?

_Yes. The companion was a stranger, a young man with no memory or sense of self. The wise leader, because he was kind, took the amnesiac stranger in. Soon, the stranger established that he was intelligent--perhaps the most intelligent of all the apprentices. They accepted him easily, and he became one of them, rising to the ranks of becoming their leader. And the youngest was excited. There was finally--_finally_--someone who shared his ambitions._

Did the youngest act on his ambitions?

_He did. He, his methodical friend, and the stranger continued to research deeper--deeper into the darkest mysteries of the world. The mysteries that should have never been uncovered. But the youngest apprentice didn't care. It didn't matter to him how forbidden the knowledge was--he _had _to have it. Like Eve, he unquestioningly accepted the apple from the tempting stranger._

Eve?

_Never you mind. You wouldn't know understand...but you can understand _this: _The boy wanted to follow the stranger. More than anything. He would give his own soul to the stranger. He was so captivated by the stranger that he didn't think twice about following him anywhere, obeying his every command. The boy didn't realize it. He thought he only wanted knowledge that the stranger could grant, but he...he wanted more. So much more. He only realized what he wanted until it was too late to do anything about it._

Infatuation makes fools of us all. I understand. But what happened? When did things get "too late"?

_He was tempted. He was tempted by the stranger to convince his master, the land's benevolent leader, to build a laboratory deep underground...to continue their experiments into the forbidden. The leader was apprehensive, because he was a kind man. But he gave in to the boy's persuasion, both because the boy was always good at persuading others and because the leader liked the boy. He trusted him._

That would be the leader's mistake, wouldn't it?

_His hugest._

So what happened then?

_The laboratory was built; the six apprentices and their leader continued their research. The apprentices performed shocking experiments, horrifying experiments, all for the sake of seeking knowledge. Everything, they told themselves, to discover the truth. They pried into secrets that should have never been uncovered, and still they did not see that what they were doing was wrong. They were so..._excited. _They did not care when they started to drown their world, which had been so cheerful and carefree, into darkness and despair._

But the leader...

_The leader saw. He was visited by another leader, another king, from a faraway land. The king convinced the apprentices' master that what he was doing was wrong, and so the apprentices' master ordered them to give up their experiments._

Bet the youngest apprentice wasn't happy about that.

_Hardly. And so--for the very first time--the six apprentices turned their back on their leader and defied him. They continued their increasingly grisly experiments in secret. The arrival of the king from the faraway land excited them; showed them there were worlds beyond their own. They wanted to find these other worlds, and because of that they threw themselves even more enthusiastically in their research. Month after month they spent probing the forbidden secrets, always urged on by the tempting stranger, by the ambitious youth._

They couldn't have kept this secret from the leader forever.

_They didn't. And when he found out...he was not angry. No, it would have been much better if he had been angry. But he was not. He was disappointed. He had not thought his apprentices capable of such evil. He despaired, then--and realized it was too late for him. The apprentices, eagerly following the tempting stranger, had turned their backs on him. They did not hesitate to betray him._

They didn't!

_Oh, yes they did. The six apprentices, at once eager and angry, banished their leader. They who had tasted the fruit of knowledge turned on their leader--their benevolent, their wise, their kindly leader--and banished him from the Garden forever._

Garden? Was that the name of the world...

_The name is not important. Suffice to say the apprentices cast their leader into the forbidden realm, for all eternity. Not a single one of them regretted it. They were glad that their research could continue now, unimpeded. The apprentices, now led by the stranger, the tempter, went further than their leader had ever dared. Eventually, they went further than they themselves had expected._

What did they do? When did they realize they'd gone too far?

_Only until it was too late. The youngest, ironically, was the first to realize that they had gone too far. And so the last shall be the first. He realized it when all the others began to cast off their bodies, began to enter the forbidden realm. One by one they plunged themselves into its secrets, and tore the foundations of their being apart. All out of their quest for knowledge. The youngest watched, and became increasingly horrified. _

So he didn't do it? He didn't follow them?

_No. He followed them. How could he not? They were his friends, his _family_...and the tempting stranger had been the first to descend into the forbidden realm. What could the youth then do, but follow? He had pledged to follow for all eternity. He did not take his pledges lightly._

So he followed. What happened after that?

_The six of them...they became but empty and drifting shells. Too late, after they had lost themselves into the forbidden realm, did they realize that they had gone too far. They realized that in their quest for knowledge--they had lost _themselves. _The six shells would now do anything to be whole again--and so the shells found a land that, like them, did not exist, and made their home there, and began planning on regaining what they had lost out of their own folly._

All right. Then the six of them--

_Not six. There were six at first, but then one by one more came. The six were not the only shells to have lurked the corners of the universe. There were others, many other shells. Not all could think, though. The ones that could not think, that were little more than beasts, the six enslaved. But slowly, other shells--shells that had thoughts and memories--began arriving. One by one the ranks of the six swelled...until they became thirteen._

Ah. And what happened to the youngest apprentice? The sixth shell?

_What could he do? He continued to research. He continued to read. He continued to seek knowledge--but he was more restrained now. He understood what the unrestrained search for knowledge could lead to. An empty and emotionless shell, only a step removed from a monster._

There were more shells besides the six...there was the eighth one. Tell me about _him._

_I do not know anything about him._

Yes, you do. Tell me what he and the sixth shell did.

_This is irrelevant._

No it isn't. Tell me.

_Very well. I will tell you, if you insist. The sixth shell...the former youngest apprentice...even though he was wiser now than he had been before, and no longer sought knowledge with the same fervor he had before...he was still easily tempted. Too easily. The eighth shell was from a different land, and had not known the six apprentices. He was always very forward. Forward, and rude. And not particularly attractive, either._

Such slander. I object!

_Objection denied. Anyhow, the youngest apprentice, despite being wiser, was still easily seduced. And however lacking in skills the eighth shell was, he knew how to _seduce. _He seduced the youth, drew him in with honeyed words, lies, sweet-nothings. And before he knew it..._

Yeah? Go on. Don't pause now! It was just getting good.

_Before he knew it..._

Don't pause again! Come _on._

_I was yours, Axel._

_...._I see.

_I'm sure you do._

Um...hey?

_Yes? I'm tired. Let me sleep. That's the end of the story._

I just have one question. Stay awake and hear me out, okay?

..._all right. But be quick. We have a mission early tomorrow, and--_

You said this story...didn't have a happy ending.

_It doesn't._

But...but how can you say that?

_That's easy. It's true._

No, it isn't.

_Tell me why it isn't._

Because...because, Zexion...our story isn't finished yet. You can't say it doesn't have a happy ending if you don't _know _how it will end, am I right?

..._go to sleep, Axel._

You didn't answer my question. But thanks anyway for the story.

_You're welcome. Now, will you go to sleep or will I have to _make _you sleep?_

You're so cute when you're threatening me, Zexion.

_Shut up._

Yeah, good night to you too, Zex.

* * *

I'm not so sure how AkuZeku this story is (it's more Zexion-centric than anything), but I always did want to write his version of the Fall...er, what happened in Radiant Garden.

Remember, if you read this...REVIEW!!! Por favor.

I can't guarantee any further updates. Consider this an anamoly.


	4. Sin

**Recollections of the Doomed**

_IV. Sin_

See chapter one for summary and ratings and stuff.

I guess I'm a hypocrite for saying that I have no time for fanfiction because guess what, here's another one of these stories! Can I help it? They're too much fun! Oh, and this story also contains my very first real sex scene! Aghh. Hopefully I don't burn anyone's eyes out.

This story is the seven deadly sins, AkuZeku style.

* * *

_Greed_

Hands wrap tighter, digging into folds of black leather, bodies draw closer, breaths come short and panting and ragged. He seeks the other's lips, drawing him into hungry kiss after hungry kiss, drinking in the other's intoxicating flavor--

"I want _more _of you," growls Zexion, digging his fingers deep into Axel's sweat-soaked red hair, furthering his claim over the other Nobody with an almost desperate fervor. "_More, _damn it--don't lean away--come closer--_all of you will be mine--"_

Axel responds by twining his own hands tighter into Zexion's slate-colored locks, and pulling Zexion into a long and crushing kiss. When he pulls away, a smirk is glowing in his brilliant green eyes.

"Believe me," he whispers, "I want all of _you, _too."

He presses his mouth to Zexion's again, and they both pull deeper into the kiss, drawn to each other by a powerful greed.

_Sloth_

"Don't you have a mission to go to?" says Zexion, surveying Axel over the top of the thick tome he is reading.

"Hmm...? Nah--Demyx volunteered to go instead. I mean, it's Atlantica, so he'd be better off there anyway," says Axel, winking casually at Zexion and leaning back in the armchair. He's fiddling with a book in his hand, but isn't reading it.

"Tch. You shouldn't just do _nothing, _though," says Zexion, his voice like ice, and he turns away from Axel and flips the page of his book.

For a long time neither of them speak, and the only sound in the empty library is the steady rustle of pages turning. At length, Axel turns back around to face Zexion, the ghost of a smirk gracing the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, well," he says, "it's not like _you're _doing anything, either."

_Envy_

He watches them, sometimes. Watches them from the shadows behind the clock tower, watches as the tall redhead bends down to pull the smaller blonde into a deep and passionate kiss. They smile at each other, Axel and Roxas, and then they turn and disappear into portals, each to their respective stations.

Zexion _hates _it. He doesn't know who he hates more--Axel, for cheating on him, or Roxas, for seducing Axel. Sometimes he wishes he could _harm _one of them, whichever one he thinks deserves the most blame. Perhaps both of them. But other times...

...he wishes he was Roxas.

Axel leans against the wall, glaring outside at the forever-night sky, and the castle illuminated by the garish light of moon above. A blonde youth and a slate-haired youth walk side-by-side outside, seemingly ignorant of no one but each other. Watching them causes something to burn within Axel--a ferocious ache where his heart used to be. The memory of rage. Or perhaps something more.

How can Zexion smile like that aroud _Demyx, _he wonders, but not around _him?_

_Gluttony_

"Muffins, this time?" says Axel, smirking widely. Zexion shoots him a glare as he sets down the pan.

"Yes," he says. "And if you have a problem with it--"

"No, I don't," laughs Axel, and he reaches over Zexion's shoulder to snatch a still-steaming muffin, ignoring Zexion's snarl of disapproval. He takes a huge bite, and after he swallows, flashes Zexion a brief smile. "Mm, delicious. You know, your power really shouldn't be illusion, it should be baking--"

"Shut up," snaps Zexion. "And don't eat too many. You'll get a stomachache, like you did last time..."

"Don't be such a spoilsport, Zex," says Axel, reaching for a second muffin. "And you ought to follow your _own _advice."

"Tch," is all Zexion has to say in reply to this, and then he takes a bite from a muffin of his own.

_Lust_

Moans and pants filter through the dark night, tainting the silence but electrifying it at the same time. In the bed, two figures roll back and forth, tangling the blankets, deeply engaged in the throes of lovemaking.

"Mm--ahh--don't stop--_Axel!" _gasps Zexion as Axel thrusts into him, over and over again, drowning him in a haze of pure pleasure. "Ahh--"

"Haaa, eager much, Zexy?" smirks Axel, but he too is breathing hard, panting from pleasure, and speeds up the tempo, thrusting harder and faster and deeper into Zexion, hitting the spot that he knows will make the Schemer see white. "Mm--you're so--fucking--_sexy_--"

"_Axel!" _With a strangled shout, Zexion's body arches, and he comes, spilling his essence all over his thighs and the bed. Only seconds later, Axel releases as well, deep within Zexion. He thrusts one more time to ride out his orgasm, and then pulls out.

"So sexy," whispers Axel, and he leans down and pulls Zexion into a passionate, devouring, and oh-so-sweetly _lustful _kiss.

_Wrath_

"What the fuck do you think you're _doing!" _screams Zexion, his voice rising in his anger, hands balling into tight fists. "What the fuck's the matter with _me? _Am I not _enough _for you?"

Anger--or at least the closest he can approximate--rings in his voice, and he marches closer to Axel, breathing hard, face flushed in his rage. Axel, however, doesn't give Zexion a chance to protest before grabbing the smaller Nobody by the thin wrists and slamming him, hard, into the wall. Anger to match Zexion's burns in his brilliant green eyes.

"And _you _have a right to yell at _me?" _he shouts, driving his knee into Zexion's stomach even as Zexion tries struggling against him, thrashing and twisting and spitting curses, fury, damnation, at his captor. "Tell me--what's with all this shit about _Demyx, _huh? I should be asking _you _if I'm enough for you, you sneaky little bitch!"

"You--_you_--I fucking _hate _you, Axel!" roars Zexion in response, still twisting in Axel's relentless grip, fury coloring his face. "Why the fuck did I ever get tangled with you in the _first _place--let _go_--"

"Yeah! It's not like _I _like you much either, bitch!" Axel's voice rises so much that it almost cracks, and with that, he finally does release of Zexion's wrists--only to bring the hand down again in a hard slap. The first blow of dozens they would exchange that night.

_Pride_

They are both confident individuals, strong and proud in their powers and their wits. They hold themselves apart from others, convinced that no one else can understand them. No one but themselves.

Theirs has never been a relationship of equals, true, but it is not a complete master and slave relationship, either. Despite all the years, despite all the efforts, neither has been able to completely claim the other.

"Why don't you just _submit?" _whispers Axel, tightening his grip around Zexion's wrist, drawing Zexion closer to him. The bruises stand starkly on Zexion's pale face, but when Zexion looks back at Axel he is smirking.

"Become mine. You are mine," he says on another occasion, running his hand through Axel's hair as they lay next to each other, late at night. "No one but _me _will have you."

"Don't dream, Zexy. You can never defy me. It'd make things _so _much easier if you submitted." True--but since when did Zexion ever want _anything _to be easy?

"You are _mine, _number VIII. Accept that." Yeah, as if Axel's ever been one for just passively lying back and _accepting _everything.

"I am your master. You will submit to me." Never.

"I have claimed you. Accept me. Accept my rule." Don't be an idiot.

When Axel stands over Zexion years later, as Zexion begs for mercy and Axel replies unfeelingly, he thinks that perhaps the war between their souls has finally been won--by _him_. He certainly can't help but feel a vindictive triumph as he watches the false Riku destroy Zexion, send him fading back into darkness...

But later, when he stands over Zexion's grave, smashed beyond recognition, he wonders if maybe _Zexion _was the one who won. How else could he _still _continue to haunt Axel's thoughts, his dreams, his nightmares? He _did _lay his claim over Axel, and that claim has, even after his death, never waned.

Perhaps neither won. Or rather, neither wants to _concede _that the other has won. They're both too proud to ever admit it.

* * *

Sins--from minor mistakes, to larger flaws that are endemic to their characters. From the beginning to the end _sin _has been built in their relationship. It could be no other way.

* * *

I was wondering if I should put scene breaks between each sin, or if the italic name is just enough.

Anyway, R&R and suchlike. Especially for the sex scene...*ducks and hides*

Can't promise when the next update will come. I'll try to make it semi-quick, but I don't know. We'll see when it happens.


	5. Dead Star

**Recollections of the Doomed**

_V. Dead Star_

See chapter one for summary and ratings and stuff.

Surprise update! I'm surprised I'm still working on this, but the story flooded out in a burst of inspiration (such a rare, _rare _thing). It practically wrote itself, and I'm very pleased in the end result.

Sleuth around for a) an Emily Dickinson reference, b) a Twilight reference, and c) tons and tons of Muse references. Specifically, lines that should sound awfully familiar to anyone who's listened to their wonderful song "Dead Star"...on which this story is based, really.

* * *

Whenever Axel was in a particularly poetic mood--which didn't happen often--he would wonder what to compare his and Zexion's relationship to.

He liked analogies, metaphors, similes--committed the well-done ones to his memory (death as a chariot driver...), shook his head at more poorly put together ones (marble Adonises, indeed!), but in any case, it was the concept that appealed to him most. The concept of taking two completely separate things--apples and oranges--and putting them together, _forcing _them to match up, for better or for worse. Making order out of chaos. The perfect thing for a Nobody to be attracted to.

Love metaphors were the most popular and prevalent out there. He had seen love compared to many thing: the first young love compared to spring, just as vibrant and just as brief. There was the ever popular analogy between love and flowers of various kinds, which he didn't get (perhaps Marluxia would appreciate those more). Love was described as a flame, burning and passionate, or as a soft and comforting blanket.

None of them satisfied him. In part, it was because he didn't believe he and Zexion had anything approximating "love" in the first place. There was nothing sweet to their relationship, or vibrant and brief--they'd been going on for years already, almost a decade at this point. Sometimes, he thought the flame metaphor was most appropriate...after all, like flame, their relationship was one of passion above all, and left nothing but destruction in its path.

But that didn't feel right either. Flames didn't last for long, and flames did give off warmth and light. No...

When Axel thought about it, only one analogy could fit him and Zexion:

A dead star.

* * *

_Like a dead star, they had once burned brighter, but had now faded._

"You used to be everything to me."

Axel looked up, jerking out of the chess game he'd been playing with himself--the last time he'd played with Zexion, his losing streak of fifty-five games in a row convinced him to never challenge the Schemer again. "Huh? What're you going on about now?"

"Nothing..." said Zexion quietly, curled up in his customary seat beneath the library window. He wasn't looking at Axel, but rather gazing at the dark sky outside, illuminated only by the artificial moon's glow. "Only I was thinking about...about the two of us."

"Hmm, really," said Axel, surveying the board and wondering where to move his black knight next.

"I meant it," continued Zexion. "What I said. There was a time when...when I could not conceive of a world outside you. When I...I would look forward, more than anything, to the nights after missions, when the two of us would..."

He trailed off; Axel knew that outside of the bedroom, Zexion was quite the prude. He would not even say that three-letter word.

"You were...my world," sighed Zexion, shaking his head in a rueful way. "I was a bit stupid for thinking that, was I not?"

Axel didn't reply, except to finally move his knight. The clack as he set it down on the board rang through the silent library. In the seconds afterwards, the only sound was the gentle flapping of paper as Zexion turned the pages of the book he was immersed in.

"You know..." said Axel quietly, almost to almost. "You used to mean a lot more to me, too..."

* * *

_Like a dead star, they were volatile, straining under the weight of years spent burning._

"Dammit! Let go of me--you bastard, you _bastard, _I hate you, I fucking hate you--"

Axel supposed he'd be upset, if he _could _feel in the first place. But all he felt as he clutched Zexion's wrist so tightly he was probably cutting off the circulation was a faint disgust rising in the pit of his stomach. He gazed down at the smaller Nobody's livid-with-anger face, and merely tightened his grip as Zexion thrashed harder, struggling to free himself.

"Axel--let _go_--"

"'Master'," said Axel icily. "I won't do anything for you until you learn to address me properly, got it memorized?"

"Never! I will _never _bow to the likes of you!" shouted Zexion, bringing up his free hand in an attempt to slap Axel. Axel hadn't been expecting it, so cursed when the blow connected, sending more pain than he'd like to admit ringing through his head. Immediately his rage--no, not his rage, his feral animal instincts--kicked into high ear, and he drove his knee into Zexion's stomach before pushing the Cloaked Schemer away from him, sending him slamming into the wall.

"Axel..." hissed Zexion, glaring at him with pure hate in his eyes. Axel advanced on him, fist raised, his voice deadly when he spoke.

"You're going to learn what happens to disobedient little boys who don't know when to listen to their masters."

"You are not my--_aaugh!" _as the blow connected, knocking Zexion violently to the side. He fell on his hands and knees, gasping like a drowning man, looking like he was fighting back the urge to spit up something. He couldn't maintain his control for long, and soon, with a shuddering gasp, was coughing out great globs of blood that shockingly splattered the white floor.

"Damn it, Zexion," sighed Axel as he approached, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Why can't you sleep with someone who'll _protect _you?"

* * *

_Like a dead star, they eventually collapsed in on themselves, too tired to burn even faintly._

Axel stood above Zexion's shattered grave in the room that claimed to be the only proof that the Nobodies of the Organization existed. But that wasn't right...it couldn't be right. Because Zexion _did _exist beyond just a panel broken beyond recognition. He existed in...in Axel's memories. In all the sweaty and fevered nights together, in all the curses and blows, all the times they both comforted the other without knowing why, after all, they had no reason to even _like _each other...

But still they'd stuck together for almost a decade. And now...now they had both faded. One way or the other...

"You were tired of fighting, weren't you?" said Axel, shaking his head. "You gave up in the end...I know you did."

He knew it, with something deep in the core of his non-being. How, near the end, Zexion came to accept his rule much more easily, came to submit to him more and more often. At first, it had pleased Axel...yet he couldn't help but feel a tad disturbed at the same time. There was a time when Zexion would have fought, would have fought _everything. _Every attempt by Axel to get him to call him "master", every time Axel tried taking him against his will. He always ended up submitting, of course, but not after a long struggle.

Axel had never realized how much he'd _appreciated _Zexion fighting back; had never appreciated it until Zexion stopped. Those final months, the months when he'd finally broken Zexion's spirit, shattered the other Nobody into hundreds of tiny pieces that could not be put back together. He'd done his best to get a rise out of Zexion again, desperately, tried everything--acted more cruel than he had in a decade--

And yet Zexion had done nothing, nothing but bow his head and quietly accept Axel's orders, his face disturbingly blank.

And now he was gone. Gone. The word tasted funny in Axel's throat, caused a strange sensastion to seize up that empty space where his heart had once belonged. He gazed at the shattered panel, remembering those final moments, remembering how Zexion had--once he realized that there would be no salvation for him--simply given up, slumped in Axel's grip, resigned to his death...

"You weren't to blame. I wasn't either..." he said quietly. "We're all to blame."

* * *

Axel was glad that the poetic moods didn't happen often. He didn't want to remember Zexion more than he absolutely had to, and every time he thought about the two of them--him and Zexion, them as a dead star--the memories came flooding back. The memories of every time together. Every fight. Every smile, however rare.

He tried to immerse himself in his friendship with Roxas and Xion, but it all felt fake to him. Hollow and pretend...or rather, _he _felt hollow. Too hollow to do anything but laugh at the right times, answer the kids' questions, and go with the flow of life. It scared him, in a way. Once, he'd have never consented to follow anyone. He took pride in leading himself, in forging his own path, in actively creating his own fate. That was the one reason why he so utterly refused to submit to Zexion, why he'd tried his darnedest to subdue the other Nobody, to get him to submit...

He'd done it--_destroyed _Zexion--and now no victory could feel more empty, more despairing.

In a pathetic way, he thought bitterly, the dead star analogy extended even after Zexion's death. Zexion was gone completely, with no proof that he'd existed besides a broken panel and a few snatches of memory Axel had (when he was trying to deny them), but even though Axel had survived, it had left him empty. Hollower than even the hollow shells that all Nobodies were. Zexion had...Zexion had sucked away his will to live. His _self. _Had, with a powerful, unexplainable force, dragged all of Axel down with him, until they had both vanished so completely they could never be found, never could be retrieved, never could be _saved, _again.

The dead star had become a black hole.

* * *

All reviews are appreciated. ^^ I'd like comments, especially, on how well the analogy was carried out. And do listen to "Dead Star" while reading this. Not only is it a great song, but I think it gets the story a deeper level. I mean, I was listening to the song while writing it, so a lot of its mood, I'd say, was transmitted into the story. That being said, this story is not a songfic. Just so I don't get into trouble.

I can't promise any further updates, since this was just randomly inspired. So sorry to those of you who're impatient for the next chapter of _Tainted but Beautiful. _:(


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